Two Hearts
by Michelle Birkby
Summary: A future companion of the Tenth Doctor has trouble dealing with the legacy of Rose. I wrote this before Martha and Donna - so this is purely imaginary
1. Haunted by Rose

Two hearts.

Rose haunts her. Everywhere she turns in the Tardis, she is aware of Rose's presence, behind her, beside her, round the next corner, waiting for her. Rose's laughter echoes down the empty corridor, a flash of gold in the darkness is her hair. Even away from the Tardis, she thinks of the girl that came before. Wonders if he took her to this new world, or the next, and if he didn't, did he mean to? All day, all night, her thoughts and dreams are filled with Rose.

It wasn't always like this. Once she barely even knew who Rose was. Rose was just the name of the companion before her. He mentioned her once or twice, and a flicker of sadness passed behind his eyes, but that was all. Just another name. The latest in a long list of names that had started with Susan, and currently ended with her own.

Of course she fell in love with the Doctor. How could she not? A tall dark handsome stranger sweeps into her life, rescues her from the very vicious bad guys, and whisks her away from her boring, dull, stagnant life to adventure and planets and bizarre aliens. He was mysterious, and funny, and knew such a lot, and vulnerable and brave and had the darkest eyes, and she was not surprised when she fell head-over-heels in love with him.

She didn't expect him to love her back. She was fine with that. Sarah-Jane had warned her the Doctor didn't love ages ago.

"Well, he does love," Sarah-Jane had told her, in a Viennese café over pastries as the Doctor was arguing with Freud in the corner. "He feels very strongly about people, and his companions. He gets very fond of us. He just doesn't _love_ in the way you and I know it. You know, monogamous, one-on-one, kissy, huggy, sex kind of relationship."

The new companion nearly choked on her pastry. She'd come from a much earlier time then Rose, and was consequently not quite as comfortable talking about sex as Sarah-Jane seemed to be.

"The first Doctor I met was quite sexy." Sarah-Jane reminisced, not noticing the blush spreading up her companion's face. "The second one – he was the fourth Doctor – well, I wouldn't call him sexy, although he was magnetic. Now the fifth Doctor – he was gorgeous, but I only met him for a few minutes. I didn't half envy Tegan, getting to go off with him. And your Doctor…" she glanced over to where he was passionately making a point to Freud, and illustrating it with a pastry fork. "Now he's a honey. But like I said before – fancy him all you like. Fall in love, I know you will. In any incarnation he's irresistible. But don't expect him to fall in love back."

The new companion looked down at her pastry, and muttered something.

"I know that look." Sarah-Jane said gently. "Trust me on this."

"He doesn't fall in love. I know." The woman said, looking at Sarah-Jane with brave, hurt eyes.

"He did once." Sarah-Jane mused. "Or at least, I think he did, because he has a grand-daughter. But now….."

* * *

The new companion accepted this. She was close to him, lived with him, saved him, and was protected by him, fought beside him. It was enough. And if ever she got lonely one night, Jack would always turn up. She'd seen the same look in Jack's eyes when he looked at the Doctor. She and Jack, knowing neither could ever have him, would console each other in bed, at night.

And life had been fine. But one night, she and the Doctor had found themselves locked in a prison cell for the night. And he had decided that escape might as well wait until morning, and had lain down and gone to sleep. She'd stayed awake, unable to sleep for some reason.

It had been silent, but warm in the cell, and she had been dozing lightly when she heard the Doctor speak. She opened her eyes, and looked across, but his eyes were still closed.

He had been calling out in his sleep. And the name he had called was 'Rose'.


	2. The Promise

She stared at him , unsure if she'd heard right. His eyes were flickering beneath his eyelids, and he was stirring uneasily in his sleep. She moved a little closer to try to hear what he was murmuring.

"Don't go, Rose!"

He shouted, so suddenly she jumped back.

"Doctor?" she asked softly. She was afraid to wake him from his dream, but she couldn't bear to hear him call out Rose's name again. His voice was so full of pain and tears, as if the pleading was being ripped out of him.

"Please…please…" he was saying, over and over again, his voice breaking. She couldn't move, frozen by the naked emotion in his voice. "Don't leave, don't leave alone, I can't bear to be alone…."

"You're not alone." she whispered, but he didn't hear her.

"No, another companion won't do!" he called, and she winced as if stabbed. She drew back, against the wall, trying to get as far away from the writhing man in the bed as possible.

"I want you, Rose. I need you." His voice was broken, imploring, beseeching, like a man at the end of his last tether. Whatever was happening in his dream, it was destroying him. She crawled slowly over the floor towards him.

"I love you, Rose." He murmured.

She crouched by the bed, shocked into immobility. She felt the world spin around her, but she stayed still, a statue, frozen into perpetual stillness.

He'd loved Rose.

She'd stayed all this time, knowing she loved him, believing he could never love her in return, because he could never love. But he had loved. It was there, in his words, his voice, the pain on his face, the silent weeping. He had loved.

She looked round. There must be a way out of the cell. Some way to escape. How could she stay, knowing this? Knowing he could never care for her, as she cared for him? Knowing that she would spend her life with him hoping and wishing and needing something he would only give Rose, not her? All those years stretched before, empty, lonely years, loving a man who had given his heart to someone else. She couldn't do it. She had to leave him.

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm, spinning her back round to him. His eyes were open, and for a moment she thought he had seen her decide to leave. But his eyes were unfocused and he was still muttering, and she realised he was still asleep. He was looking at her, but seeing someone else.

"Promise you'll never leave." He said in a harsh whisper. "Say it!" his grip was painful and tight, and his eyes those of desperate man.

"I'll never leave." She said quickly, to calm him.

"Promise!"

"I promise!" she said, and she found that deep inside herself, she meant it.

"Good." He muttered, as he closed his eyes. "Don't leave. Don't ever leave. You promised."


	3. A Lost Heart

She didn't sleep at all that night, and he slept only fitfully, still murmuring Rose's name every so often. She winced every time she heard him calling for the woman he loved, the woman who had the whole of his heart. Her thoughts kept spinning. She wanted to leave. She had to leave the Tardis, and Jack and the Doctor. She was too hopelessly in love, and there would be no peace while he did not love her. But…

"I promised to stay." She murmured. It had been a foolish promise, made to a man who'd thought she was someone else, but she'd made a covenant with the man she loved, and she'd never break it. No matter how much it hurt.

"Did you sleep much?" he asked, and she turned. His eyes were wide open and he was staring at her. She wandered how long he'd been watching her.

"Not at all." She admitted. He got up, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"I feel rather tired." He told her. "I don't think I slept at all well."

"You had nightmares." She said, in a small, quiet voice. "You were calling out in your sleep."

"Really? Who was I calling for?"

She watched him for a moment. Now she should tell him. Tell him he called for Rose, and still loved Rose, and she loved him too much and he had to take her back home, please.

But she had made a promise.

"I don't know, I couldn't understand you." She lied. He stared at her for a moment, with that look that made her feel like he could see right down into the very heart of her soul, then walked over to the door.

"No, no way through that lock." He announced cheerily. "We'll have to sit around and chat until the guards come and we can make our daring escape. So," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, "what do you want to talk about?"

She didn't know what she was going to say until she said it.

"Rose."

"Ah." He said. "Rose." He looked away from her, over into the distance, into memory. "I loved Rose."

He glanced back to the woman opposite him huddled miserably into a corner. He liked her. He'd always liked her. She was funny, and clever and resourceful, and brave, and she amused him, and fascinated him, like all his companions did. And he'd seen the look in her eyes, like he had seen in so many companions eyes, and carefully and scrupulously ignored it, because he could not return it.

But he had loved Rose. He still did. And he knew that he had called out Rose's name last night, and now this woman by his side knew what he was capable of, knew what he held back from her. Knew what Rose had finally taught him to do.

He'd wanted to be alone after Rose. But he couldn't be. The Tardis was too big. Too full of old memories, of lost companions and evil enemies and terrifying monsters. Alone he could hear voices, just whispers on the air, Ian and Barbara whispering to one another, a faint waft of Victoria's perfume, an echo of Adric's last words, Jo's last goodbye. Too many memories, piled on top of him, one by one, all those dead friends and enemies, until he almost suffocated. No wonder the Time Lords chose to live in solitude most of the time. An almost-eternal life created too much past, much of it painful as loved ones died. No, he couldn't be alone, so another companion had to be found, and he picked up the first human who wanted to leave that he found. And he had held back from her, as he had tried to hold back from Rose.

Rose had his heart. That was still true. But Rose had gone. And somewhere, in his fevered dreams last night, he remembered this woman, his new companion promising to never leave him.

And she had meant it. He would never be alone again. And that was a precious gift, that deserved far more from him than he had been willing to give.

He had said his final goodbye to Rose, in life, and in the last night's dream.

"Did I ever tell you," he said slowly, "that I have two hearts?"


	4. Spark of Hope

Rose haunts her. Every time she turns a corner, or opens a door, she expects to see Rose. Rose, who belongs here, Rose who had her place.

Rose whom he loved.

Everyday she decides to tell him to go back, to find Rose, to take her home. But her life with him is too exciting, the moments she shares with him too sweet, and she finds she cannot let go.

And ever since the day he told her he had two hearts, things have changed. She didn't understand his meaning. Two physical hearts didn't mean the same as having two hearts to give, much as she wanted it to. But she hugs that one moment to herself at night, in her bed, just before she falls asleep, as her first spark of hope.

Because now he takes her hand, sometimes, unexpectedly, when they walk together. He puts his arms round her as she stands at the console. Sometimes she catches him watching her with a half-bemused expression on his face, as if he can't believe she's there. And yesterday, when he thought she was dead, his hand shook and his face went pale, and he had almost killed the Sontaran he thought had killed her. And today he told her she was 'quite special. Unique, in fact.'.

Little moments like that keep her going, keep her warm. Something to remember at the end of the day, when she thinks she's hears Rose's voice answer his call, a still living ghost from the past.

But ghosts fade, and she promised to stay always. And the Doctor has two hearts.


End file.
